


a rescue attempt in three parts

by tempestaurora



Series: destiny is a funny thing [5]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fire Nation Politics (Avatar), Gen, Imprisonment, Sorry Not Sorry, Torture, Whump, You guys got a really nice and soft fic last time so now i've decided to brutally assault you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:02:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25430578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tempestaurora/pseuds/tempestaurora
Summary: A PROCLAMATION FROM THE PALACE OF THE FIRE LORDLong may she reign.On this day, the third of Fire Lord Azula’s reign, Her Majesty Fire Lord Azula has announced the forthcoming execution of any and all who have or continue to aid and abet the criminals known as Avatar Aang and the Fire Nation’s former prince, Zuko.Their list of crimes long, Zuko and the Avatar most recently assassinated our great ruler, Phoenix King Ozai.Upon the seventh day of her reign, Fire Lord Azula will host a public execution of the captured allies of the Avatar. Six warriors from the Earth Kingdom, known as the Kyoshi Warriors, shall be executed for their collusion with the Avatar and plotting of the Phoenix King’s death.May they serve as a warning and a reminder of the power and might of the Fire Nation, and the lack of tolerance towards those that wish for our glorious nation’s downfall.May the Fire Lord’s reign burn bright and lasting.
Relationships: Sokka/Suki (Avatar), The Gaang & Zuko (Avatar)
Series: destiny is a funny thing [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1831774
Comments: 45
Kudos: 96





	1. part one: the execution

**Author's Note:**

> we break away from the soft and wholesome swamp baby content to bring you: the beginning of that civil war i was hoping to avoid writing
> 
> i'm posting this now because it's been sitting in the draft folder for three weeks and in one more ao3 is gonna delete it and i'll have to reformat everything lmao
> 
> if you're starting here, i think you should consider going back and reading the first fic in the series! things happen! fights are had! the avatar is lowkey dead!

In the distance, the Fire Nation loomed; a series of islands studded with volcanoes and the slick heat of summer, now oppressively surrounding them. Katara, used to the cold, despised it. As they flew across the sea on Appa, they shucked off their layers and draped themselves across the saddle, hoping for the breeze to cool them down before they had to fight.

And they would have to fight.

Hawky, Sokka’s messenger hawk, had delivered a note on their third day in the Foggy Swamp Tribe. Katara saw the use of bonding with the new Avatar, of deciding how best to protect her and raise her away from the eye of the world, but she couldn’t help but feel as if their time spent in the swamp was more about avoiding than about Avatar Yue herself. It was almost a relief – in the worst way possible – when they received the urgent note.

What shocked her more than the contents was the fact that they received one at all, considering they had told absolutely no one about their journey to the swamp after Sozin’s Comet.

_Time is of the essence,_ a scrawl red across the top of the official proclamation from the Fire Nation Palace, _lives hang in the balance._ The note was signed _An old friend_ and nothing more, but their attention was caught by the letter it came on.

**A PROCLAMATION FROM THE PALACE OF THE FIRE LORD**

_Long may she reign._

On this day, the third of Fire Lord Azula’s reign, Her Majesty Fire Lord Azula has announced the forthcoming execution of any and all who have or continue to aid and abet the criminals known as Avatar Aang and the Fire Nation’s former prince, Zuko.

Their list of crimes long, Zuko and the Avatar most recently assassinated our great ruler, Phoenix King Ozai. A reward for information leading to their capture still stands.

Upon the seventh day of her reign, Fire Lord Azula will host a public execution of the captured allies of the Avatar. Six warriors from the Earth Kingdom, known as the Kyoshi Warriors, shall be executed for their collusion with the Avatar and plotting of the Phoenix King’s death.

May they serve as a warning and a reminder of the power and might of the Fire Nation, and the lack of tolerance towards those that wish for our glorious nation’s downfall.

_May the Fire Lord’s reign burn bright and lasting._

“What are you thinking?” Sokka asked, leaning over the front of the saddle to talk to Aang.

“We might have to land on another island and swim over?” Aang replied. “Appa’s too noticeable.”

“We’ve still got two days,” Sokka replied. “We can make the journey, I guess. It would be better if Appa was somewhere close, though – it’ll be tough to get six prisoners out of the Fire Nation without his help.”

This didn’t solve much at all. Hawky had arrived with the message on the fourth day of Azula’s reign, in the evening, and it was now the afternoon of the fifth as they drew close to the Fire Nation – they’d been going back and forth all day about how to save the Kyoshi Warriors. Zuko had only promised that he could find them a place to stay, despite how famous his face might be – there was very little help in the _hiding a gigantic flying bison_ area.

And then there was the fact that this was _totally_ a trap.

“Azula needs Aang and I out of the way if she’s going to keep the throne,” Zuko had told them while erratically pacing the Foggy Swamp village. “As long as we’re out here, we’re a threat to her.”

It didn’t matter that Aang wasn’t the Avatar anymore – the world _believed_ he was. And maintaining that belief was going to be the most important thing they could manage; maintaining it for absolutely as long as possible.

“We’ll have to get them out of the city some other way,” Suki decided for them. “Make a large arc around, and we’ll land near one of the towns outside the Caldera, make our way in away from the main road.”

“We’ll enter through the bunker,” Zuko said at last. “There’s a passage that leads outside the city; that’s how I got out when I left.”

Aang nodded and spent the extra hour keeping his distance from the island, only swooping in low when they were behind the city and its main entrance. Katara stood to provide cover; a rolling mist that came in fast on the wind, disguising Appa as he lowered for a landing near a large cave Sokka pointed out.

“Oh great,” Toph said. “We’re cave-dwellers again.” Katara couldn’t tell if she was being sarcastic or was actually happy about that prospect.

Katara kept up the fog even after they’d landed, before finally dropping her hands and letting the breeze slowly break it apart and send it onwards, away from the small sea-town they’d landed in the hills above.

Zuko stood beside her as Katara took a swig from her drinking water. Despite the heat, he was already wearing a cloak, the hood not yet pulled up to hide his face.

“Where are we?” Katara asked.

“That’s Azaw,” Zuko replied. “The Azaw Bay provides most of the fish for the Caldera; the species that populate that area are said to be some of the tastiest in the Fire Nation.”

Katara raised her eyebrows and Zuko shrugged. “I prefer fish from Somo, myself, but—” She gently whacked him on the arm and he smiled. “The entrance to the bunker’s not far from here. But it’ll be harder to use it _and_ get into the city on the day of the execution.”

“Do you think we should go in today?”

Zuko peered up at the sky, mid-afternoon, and shrugged. “We could sleep in the cave, go in tomorrow and find somewhere to stay for the night. Besides, don’t you want to taste the famous Azaw fish?”

They tried the fish. It wasn’t half bad.

Toph blocked off the entrance to the cave and the six of them stayed awake for far too much of the night around Zuko’s campfire, plotting and planning and talking about baby Yue that they’d left behind in the swamp. She was safer there than she’d be anywhere else, but the concept of a new Avatar was mindboggling.

Never before had the last Avatar lived to see the new one.

Aang had told her how maybe one day she would take Yue to the North and South Poles to teach her traditional bending to accompany the bending she’ll learn in the swamp, and Katara had tried to picture it: picture ten, fifteen years from now and how that might look. A rebuilt Southern Water Tribe, a decade of no war, all of them older and wiser and stronger.

She’d turned fifteen sometime during their travels, and Sokka sixteen too, though neither of them had realised until later, discovering the date they hadn’t kept track of while flying across the world. If she hadn’t gone on this adventure, maybe she would’ve been sent up North anyway, to learn waterbending and find a husband to be betrothed to – many betrothals happened at sixteen, and with all communication between the tribes cut off, what might’ve usually been a Northern boy being sent to the South as a prepared union was now silence. Katara had no betrothal in the wings, no plans other than the immediate – but perhaps someday, she would train the next Avatar to waterbend as she did with Aang.

Who would she be then? Would she be the chief of the Southern Water Tribe, or would she have grown tired of staying in one place and never leaving? Would she be travelling, an ambassador, or helping rebuild the air nation with Aang? Would she be married by then? Betrothed? A mother? Aunt Wu had told her that she’d marry a powerful bender, and Sokka had called Aang just that no more than a day later – but she simply didn’t feel that way about him at present.

Maybe she would in the future, or maybe it would be someone else, another bender with great power and a good heart.

She watched the fire flicker until her eyes grew heavy, and to the sounds of soft conversation, she fell asleep.

In the morning, Katara tied her hair up in a Fire Nation-typical top knot, and hid her mother’s betrothal necklace again. They checked their disguises, donned cloaks and small travel bags, and left Appa with enough food to make it a day or two without them.

The entrance to the bunker was an hour’s walk away, and turned out to be a hidden door in the side of the mountain, covered with brush and weeds. It had taken some searching to find it, and when they did, Zuko moved to unlatch it and then frowned. He tried again, and a third time.

“They’ve locked it,” he said. “This door shouldn’t be locked.”

“Maybe they knew how you got out of the city,” Katara suggested.

Zuko scoffed, low. “Yeah, and they locked it so I couldn’t get back in.”

“Well, I’d hate to disappoint Azula,” Toph said, cracking her knuckles, “but there’s no lock that can hold me.” Zuko stepped aside and Toph placed her hands on the door, assuming a wide stance. She clawed her fists suddenly and Katara heard the screech of metal. The door swung open. Toph’s grin was shit-eating.

“Greatest earthbender in the world,” she said to Zuko as he passed.

“Show me the belt and I’ll believe you,” he replied.

Toph cried, “Sokka took it from me!”

“I didn’t take it,” Sokka replied, indignant as they funnelled through the doorway and into the pitch-black tunnel. “I _borrowed_ it. Besides, didn’t Aang beat you fair and square?”

“And then I beat him back! Besides, Aang’s not an earthbender anymore,” Toph replied, “which means the title reverts back to me, anyway.”

“Well, sucks for you, but we lost all our stuff like ten times over during our Earth Kingdom days,” Sokka said, as Suki entered at the rear and shut off the single slash of light by shutting the door. Zuko’s hands lit red up ahead, casting an eerie glow. “So I don’t even _have_ the belt anymore.”

“You don’t _have_ my championship belt?!” Toph cried.

“Go win another.”

“There _wasn’t_ another.”

“Well, I’m sure if you go back to the Earth Rumble, you’ll win again and they’ll have a new belt by that point,” Sokka suggested.

“The _Earth Rumble?_ ” Suki questioned.

“Number six to be exact,” Sokka replied. “It was an underground earthbending tournament in Gaoling. Toph was champion.”

She heard the sound of Toph punching Zuko up ahead. “ _Champion_ ,” she repeated.

“I’m only half deaf,” Zuko replied, “I can hear basically fine. Anyway, Gaoling is under Fire Nation occupation. It’s a no-go area for now.”

Toph sighed. “That’s a shame. I wanted to show Sparky how extremely talented I am.”

The group laughed in the darkness, following the narrow tunnel deep into the mountainside. For a while, they chatted, and sometimes they walked in tense silence. Toph told them how much longer until she could sense forks in the tunnel, and promised to let them know if she could ever feel people, but she never did. Zuko told them that the maze of the bunker spread out the whole way across the Caldera, with multiple entrances in the city itself, masquerading as doors to houses or maintenance spaces. At the other end, somewhere, there’d be a door leading directly into the palace – it was guarded at all times on the other side, but if they wanted to, they could walk straight into the building with almost no resistance.

“This seems like a very risky thing to exist,” Sokka commented.

“Not if no one knows about it,” Zuko replied. “The only people who do are the royal family and their guards. Occasionally a few nobles might be told about it, but the servants don’t even know—”

“So if the palace got attacked, the servants would have nowhere to hide?” Katara asked.

“Don’t sound so surprised that my family don’t value the lives of their staff,” Zuko replied. “We’ll be coming up on a door soon that connects to the main maze, so we’ll have to stay quiet.”

They passed through the door and followed the tunnels round; they forked regularly now, into passages lined with bubbling lava or routes that led to dead ends. They passed a few doors, but none Zuko reached for. He didn’t seem to know the exact route they needed, and occasionally asked Toph to rule out passages he was unsure about. Eventually, they did come across a single noble, wandering through the bunker tunnels, but the group stood back, silent and patient, as they passed right ahead and down another passage.

It had been at least three hours since leaving the cave when Zuko led them down a set of steps carved into the dirt and unbolted a door. It led directly into an alley, the sun directly above them, and chatter coming from the street nearby.

They were in the centre of the Caldera and no one knew.

They locked the door behind them and started out into the market, following down the long street as they tried to seem casual and inconspicuous.

The Caldera was… many things, Katara decided. At one point, they stopped in a crossroads so Zuko could point out the view of the palace, looming large at the highest point of the city. It was an ornate building, vast and beautiful, and some of the large houses that surrounded it were the same. The streets were densely packed together with a style of building Katara had only seen in other Fire Nation towns; the materials all stone and rock, inflammable yet easily ventilated for the heat of the summer.

People were everywhere – _normal_ people. They chatted in the market and laughed in tea shops. Children ran around playing games and puma-foxes slunk around rooftops and alleyways. The longer they walked though, the further they drew away from the palace, the starker the differences were. Instead of chatting, people loitered in the quiet, watching from alleys and sitting low on the stone streets. The buildings became more cramped together, the places for sit-down dining less frequent. Katara could now see the blades at people’s sides, when before she had seen none at all.

“Where are we going?” Katara asked, darting forward to walk beside Zuko.

“I know somewhere we can stay,” he replied. “Somewhere no one will look for us.”

That place turned out to be a tall, narrow building with a thin door situated down a small passage. There was a sign above it in Fire Nation symbols, a language Katara couldn’t read. There was also a streak of blue on the doorframe, like a scuff of paint.

Zuko knocked and a middle-aged woman with a scar down her left cheek answered, her eyes wary.

“Hello, ma’am,” Zuko said, bowing respectfully, “my name is Lee – I was told that this building was a place to take shelter?”

The lady’s eyes glanced across the six of them, jumping over Katara and Sokka’s brown skin and blue eyes, along Toph’s milky blindness and the visible scarring across Suki’s arms from the airships – scars that Katara hadn’t been able to fully rid her body of. Her gaze landed on Zuko, no doubt staring straight at the burn he tried to hide with his hood.

“You are all homeless?” she asked.

“Yes,” Zuko replied. “We have travelled far from the colonies to come to the Caldera and start a new life, ma’am. We are refugees from the war.”

She sniffed. “Earth Kingdom soldiers coming to reclaim their land.”

Zuko nodded. “It became very unsafe to live in a warzone.”

The lady stepped aside. “Come on in,” she said, her scrutiny lessening as they entered her home. “My name is Asuni. This is Safe Haven, a privately-owned shelter. There will not be much space, but if you are all fine with sharing a room—”

“That’s absolutely fine with us,” Zuko replied. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” Asuni said. “We can provide breakfast and dinner for you, and any donations when you get on your feet are appreciated greatly to help us keep running. My co-owner, Niya, handles the meals. I’ll show you up to the spare room.”

Asuni grabbed a few flat pillows and thread-bare blankets from a cupboard, then led the group up a rickety staircase to the attic. Inside, there were two thin bunk beds propped at the tallest part of the pitched roof, and a single empty chest. Asuni left them with their blankets and pillows, informing them that dinner was a six, but they could otherwise come and go as they pleased.

She shut the door behind her when she left.

“How did you find out about this place?” Suki asked, stepping over to the single, grotty window.

Zuko shrugged. “Someone I saved as The Blue Spirit was staying here, and I walked them home,” he replied. “Do you guys already have Fire Nation names? You’ll need them.”

“Right, _Lee,_ ” Toph replied.

“I’ll go by Kuzon,” Aang said, “like I did last time.”

Sokka nudged Katara with his elbow several times. “Wang and Sapphire Fire? Eh? Eh?”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine, but we’re _siblings_ this time, not married.”

Suki pulled a face. “ _What?_ ”

“Long story.”

“Get rid of the last name,” Zuko said. “Surnames are a status symbol in the Fire Nation.”

“Same in the Earth Kingdom,” Toph replied.

“So, what’s your surname?” Aang asked, leaping up to the top bunk of one of the beds. It creaked ominously below him.

“I don’t need one,” Zuko replied. “My status symbol is the title _in front_ of my name, not after. Alright, Kuzon, Wang, Sapphire—Toph? Suki?”

“Uh—”

Sokka snapped his fingers at Suki. “Oh! Ho!”

“I look like a _Ho?_ ”

Sokka grinned wildly and Katara pressed her lips into a thin line to keep herself from smiling.

Suki peered around Sokka to look at Zuko. “Call me Nyla.”

“Can _I_ be Ho?” Toph asked.

“No,” Katara said flatly, in time with Zuko.

Toph pouted. “Are there any _cool_ Fire Nation names? Like, a name that people will look at and go, _Yeah, she’s gonna be awesome because she has that name._ That’s the kind of name I need.”

Zuko thought for a second. “The most highly regarded names are the ones inspired by royalty,” he admitted.

Toph pulled a face. “I don’t want to be called Azula.”

“A lot of girls were named Alura, after the last female Fire Nation Avatar?”

Toph sounded the name out then nodded, decisive. “I’ll be Alura, then.”

They crowded around the bunk beds after that and worked out an action plan, before starting out into the town again, telling Asuni they were looking for work. Their journey took them all the way up to the palace, where the execution would take place; a wooden platform was already being built up in the centre of the large square directly outside the front gate. Several others were slowing to watch the construction, but the group instead spent their time formulating a plan.

Katara noted the water sources and how difficult it would be to reach the rooftops. The buildings here were all detached; large-scale mansions surrounded by tall gates. She sidled up to Zuko’s side when he didn’t move for a while, just staring off at the palace.

“You alright?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he sighed. “How difficult do you think it’d be to just march in and demand an Agni Kai?”

“I’m not sure a duel is going to fix all your problems,” Katara replied, “especially with someone as talented as Azula.”

Zuko hummed. “Would it hurt to try, though?”

Katara laughed. “Yes, probably. It hurts a lot to take her on.” She looked around at all the houses. “Who lives up here, anyway?”

“Hm? Oh, well over there is Mai’s house. That one just down the way is the treasurer’s, the secretary’s – oh, that one with the gilded roof is the chief advisor’s. Ty Lee’s is a little bit that way; she’s not as rich as Mai, so she doesn’t get a house as close to the palace.”

“Obviously,” Katara said, dry.

“That not how it works back home?”

“Well, back home is just four igloos and a snowman, recently,” Katara replied, low. “But no, even before the raids, houses weren’t organised into rich and poor. It’s a community; everything was shared by everyone. Up North, though, was a different case. I don’t know how they worked.”

“You think after all this is over, you’ll go home and rebuild?” he asked, once again staring off at the palace.

“I’d like to think so,” Katara replied. “But I bet it’ll be a long time before the South is anything like how it used to be.”

“Lee! Sapphire!”

It took a moment before Katara looked over her shoulder. Sokka was jogging over.

“We’ve got what we came for,” he said, before looking to Zuko. “Where do you think the nearest bunker entrance is from here?”

“That’s not in the palace?”

“Duh.”

Zuko nodded down the way and Sokka followed, Katara stepping after them. As they neared the edge of the square, ready to head away from the palace, Katara glanced back.

“Guys,” she said, stopping entirely. “What in Tui— _Agni_ are those?”

The others followed her gaze back to the wooden platform.

“What are we looking at?” Toph asked.

“Holy monkeynuts,” Aang said, his face twisting. “Is that what they’ll use for the execution tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Zuko said. “It’s pretty traditional. Traitors to the Fire Nation get guillotined.”

Katara peered up at the high noon sun above her. She was standing in the crowd, both eager and displeased. A public execution was an _event_ , it seemed. She’d seen several wealthy families with picnic baskets, sharing out food between their children. The expensive mansions overlooking the square had packed balconies, too, filled with partygoers drinking and laughing as they waited for the execution to begin. Perhaps they’d set off fireworks after, for the full event.

Katara couldn’t see any of her friends in the crowd, but that was probably good – that meant maybe no one else could, either.

They’d arrived separately, all taking different routes to the palace, following the crowds up to the centre of the Caldera for the excitement of Fire Lord Azula’s first public execution. Apparently, the city had been hearing stories about the Kyoshi Warriors all week; the Earth Kingdom’s strongest warriors from the island of Kyoshi. They were apparently Kyoshi fanatics, cultists, assassins who’d made attempts on Fire Nation royalty in the past.

It was exactly a week since Sozin’s Comet, since Azula was crowned. The Fire Nation had yet to have a public address from her.

It was a good while before the procession began, and Katara had to press up on her tiptoes to see over the heads of the crowd as the palace doors opened. She could see the palanquin, the masses of guards, and it slowly drew close, the palace gates opening to let her through.

Only when the palanquin turned to the side could Katara see the six girls walking after it, dressed in scraps, with their arms chained together. The Kyoshi Warriors looked very different without their make-up, but their heads were still raised high in indignant spite.

They were marched up to the platform, where six identical guillotines sat in a row. They would be executed at once.

Only once they were standing behind their respective murder devices did Azula step from the palanquin. She looked just the same as Katara remembered; devious, sharply pretty. Her hair was only half up in a top knot, where the crown sat, the rest flowing loose and long across her shoulders. Her robes were richly coloured and draped in several layers, despite the heat. She looked, to put it short, royal. Like the Fire Lord.

She stepped up to the platform.

“Citizens of the Fire Nation,” she began, and the square silenced, “it is an honour to have you here today to bear witness to the first execution of my reign. These enemies of the empire have cruelly cut down many of our citizens; they have fought against us, and fought, most importantly, in the name of the Avatar.” A ripple of _boo_ s echoed throughout the square. “Today, we shall deliver punishment for their actions. We shall send a sign to the other nations that we are as strong as ever!” There was a cheer. “We are as powerful as ever! My father, the Phoenix King, may not have taken the Earth Kingdom on the day of the comet, but he did not die in vain. My father is a martyr; a symbol of what the Fire Nation hopes to be, hopes to spread to the other nations. He was strength! He was brilliance! He was dominance!”

The cheers grew and Katara felt sick watching them all. Zuko had assured her that not _everyone_ agreed with this war – but where was the evidence of that today? The square was totally packed and people were having a day of it; a little bit of lunch, a little bit of murder.

She squeezed her hands together until the knuckles turned white.

“These _Kyoshi Warriors_ have defied our great nation for the last time. They chose a side, and they chose _wrong._ Let us spill their blood and send a message: supporting the Avatar means turning your back on the Fire Nation. It means spitting in the face of all the things we have made, we have _built!_ It means stabbing the backs of each citizen of this great nation. These _Kyoshi Warriors_ would have burned the Caldera to the _ground._ It is time they get their punishment!”

The crowd cheered and the guards tugged on their chains, pulling them towards the guillotines. It was time to move.

Katara began pushing forward in the crowd, stretching her fingertips towards the ground and beginning to drag the water from the air – there were fountains in the palace gardens, and in the fenced-off lawns of the mansions, but not much else. Hama had shown her how to drag water from her surroundings, from flowers and sweat, and she did so now, searching and straining for the water in the air. It wouldn’t be much—certainly not enough to cut through the chains, so maybe that would be on Toph.

The Kyoshi Warriors were forced to their knees as the crowd jeered, shouting abuse at the girls as Azula stood back and watched on. She spotted Ty Lee and Mai, the closer she got – they must’ve been in the procession, and hidden by the crowds.

Why had no one else jumped out of the crowd yet? What was everyone else _doing?_

Katara wasn’t supposed to be the first to move – Zuko was supposed to yell something! Bend fire! Create a distraction! Where was he? Where was Toph? And Aang?

She couldn’t wait, could she?

She pushed harder through the crowd, with more panic, as the guards came up behind the heads of the girls, forcing them down into the stock at the bottom of each guillotine. Their faces were entirely devoid of emotion, blank and strong, but Katara could see that the dam might break – that they might cry as they were killed.

Katara’s gaze cut through the crowd until they landed on Mai. _Oh shit._

Mai smiled directly at her. Even raised a hand and waved her fingers.

_It’s a trap._

They’d known it was and yet hoped they could avoid it – but no. Katara was alone in the crowd, with so little water. Her water skin still rested at her hip though—it would have to be enough. She had to move now.

Not all the girls had their heads down yet. Katara growled, bending the water in a slice through the air; it snapped through two ropes holding the giant gleaming blades. They came swooping down, slashing through the stocks before the girls had a chance to have their heads shoved through the holes.

The crowd gasped. Azula did not look surprised in the slightest. She looked _amused._

A hand grabbed her wrist and Katara swirled, coming face to face with a stranger. They stared at her, hand squeezing her wrist, and whoever they were, they were not to be trusted. Katara upper cut the water towards them, slashing through the crowd and then darting away as he stumbled back. The Kyoshi Warriors, at the sight of her bursting from the crowd, slipping past the guards that held them back and taking off towards them, began struggling in their chains, hope returning to their eyes.

“Guards!” Azula shouted. “Deal with the waterbender!”

But Katara didn’t have time for guards. _Where are my friends?_

She ran for the platform, for the Warriors, until finally a voice rang out from the crowd.

“KATARA!”

It was Suki’s. She knew that voice. Katara grimaced, leaping up onto the platform and going through the guards that stood up there with the Warriors. She ducked beneath a punch, slashing the water through the unarmoured backs of their knees, and moved onto the next, going through them one by one. _Master waterbender,_ she repeated in her head, again and again as she took them all on.

Behind her, Azula had simply meandered off the stage and back to the gates of her palace.

Katara yanked the girls heads from the stocks and searched for Suki— _there,_ hands bound with rock behind her back, fighting guards and civilians alike. Only—no, the civilians were earth bending.

“Dai Li agents,” Katara grumbled. “Where are the keys?” she asked the Warriors, only to get confusion in return. She needed Toph, but where— _ah,_ there she was, stuck in battle in the middle of the crowd.

“Toph!” Katara yelled, using her water to slash through the chains as she could – they didn’t make enough of a scratch before the guards were climbing up to meet her. The battle went on as the crowds panicked and fled.

Sokka was out there – she could hear his voice – and Aang was leaping above the crowds, heading in her direction. Bursts of fire broke out, too, beautiful and kaleidoscopic; Zuko’s. Azula and her friends had vanished – but it was clear what the true aim of the execution was: using the Kyoshi Warriors as bait for the Avatar to respond to.

It was a while before Toph reached them, and even then she yelled, “Katara! Get them on the _ground!_ ”

“I can’t! They’re chained up here!”

Toph’s face twisted in discomfort and she kicked up a platform of rock, levelling herself with the wooden one. Katara darted forward and grabbed her, pulling her into a space where she was effectively blind, before shoving the chains in her hands.

“I’ve got this,” Toph said. “Get the others.”

Katara nodded, though Toph couldn’t see it, and started off to the edge of the platform, where Suki was running over, her arms still bound. She darted up the steps and right into Toph’s path, demanding the cuffs be released.

Toph complied and Katara shoved the first unlocked Kyoshi Warrior into her grasp. Suki nodded, grabbing the girl’s hand, and leapt off the platform, back into the fray.

Sokka had already disappeared – maybe already heading back to the rendezvous point, but Aang and Zuko came running over next. They leapt onto the platform, helping the girls up in turn.

“Your hood,” Katara said to Zuko.

He hissed out a swear and yanked it back up before hustling two girls away from the platform. That was how it went; they each took a girl and ran, linked by the hand, weaving through the streets and darting down alleys, across rooftops, hiding and hoping the guards and plain-clothes Dai Li agents would run right past them.

But they made it away from the square alive, from Azula’s grip, this time.

Eventually, Katara and Nomi, the Kyoshi Warrior she’d grabbed onto, made it back to Safe Haven. They were breathing heavily by that point, slinking between alley ways and trying to seem inconspicuous. It’d been at least an hour since the execution—Katara couldn’t believe they’d managed it, and without Azula even stepping in. It felt unlike her not to get into the fight, but maybe now she was Fire Lord, she couldn’t. Maybe she was barred from fighting Katara and the others in front of the public.

She slipped in through the door, relieved that Asuni and Niya, whom they’d met the evening before, weren’t around, and took Nomi upstairs to the attic. Only Suki, and the Warrior she’d taken were already there, and Suki leapt to her feet, swinging Nomi into a hug as they reunited.

Slowly, over the next hour or so, the others trickled in. First Toph, then Zuko and Aang. After a while, it was only Sokka they were waiting on.

“Where is he?” Suki asked, peering out the window. “Do you think he got hurt?”

“He’s probably just lost,” Zuko replied. “The city’s a bit of a maze.”

“Yeah, we got totally lost coming back,” Aang agreed. “It’s Sokka – he’s probably fine!”

But the hours wore on and he wasn’t coming back. Suki and Katara switched clothes, and Suki grabbed Zuko’s cloak before vanishing out into the street to look for him. The Kyoshi Warriors stayed quiet up in the attic, and Aang went out to buy some extra food with their meagre money, sneaking it back in while the others ate with Asuni, Niya, and some of the other homeless folk living in the shelter.

Katara tried to have meaningful conversations, but she was too distracted.

“Well, there are no government-run homeless shelters,” Niya was saying, though Katara was staring at the door, waiting for Sokka to come bounding through it. He’d vanished and not even taken a Kysohi Warrior with him – Zuko had taken two to make up for that fact. “So there are several private ones like ours around the Caldera, though with taxes rising it won’t be long ‘til we’re out of business, too.”

“Really?” she asked, distracted.

“There hasn’t been a tax hike since the new Fire Lord ascended, but we’re expecting one,” Asuni replied.

“How come?” Zuko asked. He was wearing his hood up again, though no one commented on him doing it indoors. It was like everyone respected the scar he was hiding.

“Well, the draft age has been lowered,” Asuni replied, “and I heard through the grapevine that the Fire Nation’s going to sweep through the Earth Kingdom, take it all on principle, and then take Omashu and Ba Sing Se after.”

Katara looked over. “Isn’t it New Ozai?”

Asuni shrugged. “Show me where Old Ozai is first,” she joked.

“I’ll take you to the crypt some time,” Niya responded, cracking a smile.

Katara held back her laugh, but neither of the women, nor some of the homeless around the room bothered, snickering between themselves. She met Zuko’s eye, raising her eyebrows. His expression told her that he was surprised, too.

Sokka didn’t return that evening and Suki finally returned after dark, minutes before the newly-instated curfew set in. Something was very wrong, but what could they do about it? They just had to wait and see – maybe he was hurt and limping back; maybe he got side-tracked. Maybe he got _caught._

In the morning, they found out. There was a knock on the attic door and Katara stared around at the Kyoshi Warriors in the room, who all scrambled to their feet and pushed into the corner hidden by the door, before Katara headed over and opened it.

“Oh! Asuni, hi,” Katara said, blocking the opening of the door with her body. “Good morning.”

“Did you sleep well, Sapphire?” Asuni asked.

“Yes, yes, very well, thank you. Is there something I can do for you?”

Asuni’s smile was warm, but a little sad. “I was just out at the market, and I saw this. I took it for you. I am very sorry, Sapphire, I really am.”

Katara frowned, panic darting through her, as she took the slip of parchment from Asuni. There was a rip at the top where it must’ve been pinned up, but Katara’s eyes were dragged below, where it read:

**A PROCLAMATION FROM THE PALACE OF THE FIRE LORD**

_Long may she reign._

On the seventh day of Fire Lord Azula’s reign, the Avatar and his allies interrupted the execution of the Kyoshi Warriors, abducting the prisoners and assaulting and killing several guards and civilians.

It is of Fire Lord Azula’s deepest regret that these criminals escaped, however during the fighting, Her Majesty’s forces were able to apprehend one of the attackers: a Water Tribe warrior who is said to have taken part in the assassination of the Phoenix King on the day of Sozin’s Comet. The Fire Lord is confident that the Avatar and his comrades will be apprehended and put to death for their crimes.

The execution of the Water Tribe warrior will be announced in due course.

Please turn your attention to the wanted posters, and keep an eye out for the criminals the Avatar travels with. Rewards will be given for any information that leads to their capture.

_May the Fire Lord’s reign burn bright and lasting._

Katara looked up, her eyes wide and meeting Asuni’s.

“I am sorry about your brother,” she said in a whisper. “Niya and I will do what we can to help.”

“What?”

Asuni’s eyes were sad. She looked past Katara, to where Zuko stood in the attic, jaw locked and eyes panicked. Katara looked between him and Asuni, who bowed, low and respectful.

“My Prince,” she said. “How can I be of service?”


	2. part two: the prisoner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter will contain imprisonment and vague depictions of torture.

day 1

Sokka had struggled the whole way into captivity, though it didn’t do a whole lot of good. First, his sword was confiscated (his beautiful, beautiful space sword), then Suki vanished from his sight in the crowd (his beautiful, beautiful girlfriend Suki), then he was wrangled into the palanquin and bound so he couldn’t move as it was carried back behind the gates to the palace (the awful, stupid, ugly palace).

The last thing he’d seen of the execution was Katara on the platform with the guillotines, fighting of the guards through the gauzy veil. Then fabric was shoved over his eyes, thrusting him into darkness.

When he could see again, the first thing he saw was fire.

A straight line across the room, vivid blue and burning. Everything else in the room was tinged a dark red, from the marble floors to the mural painted behind the fire; it was like the entire room was engulfed in heat.

“My, my,” a voice said, sending a chill straight down his spine. He knew that voice. “If someone had told me that the little Water Tribe boy would come to save his friends, I would’ve replied, _I know, that’s why I put his friends up for execution._ ” Azula stepped into his line of sight, where he was bound and kneeling on the floor. She wore a devious smirk and the clothes of the Fire Lord.

“Worth a shot though, huh?” he replied.

She hummed. “Sentimentality isn’t very becoming,” she replied, spinning on one foot to stop in front of him. Sokka didn’t dare take his eyes from her. “I’m going to give you a chance,” she said, as if this was merciful and honourable. “You can tell me all about your little Avatar friend and where he’s hiding out, or this is going to get very painful for you.”

Sokka squared his jaw and tipped his head up so he could stare into those evil, beady eyes. “I’m not going to tell you anything.”

Azula feigned a pout and crouched down to his height. “As we speak, the Kyoshi Warriors are being decapitated,” she informed him. “In the Fire Nation, the heads are speared and left on display; the bodies thrown to the animals to eat. You can’t save them – you can’t save _any_ of them. But you _can_ save yourself, and—as a treat, you can save _one_ of your friends. Like the waterbender, or the short-haired Kyoshi girl you broke out of my prison.”

Sokka levelled his breathing. He couldn’t save any of them, and he couldn’t, honestly, save himself. Whatever Azula said was a lie – Katara and Suki wouldn’t have let the Kyoshi Warriors get executed; they were likely already on their way back to Safe Haven. They would break him out, save him, and they’d all escape to live another day. They’d go back to the swamp to regroup, maybe, or the South Pole – his father and the other Water Tribe men had gone back there after the comet, so he could go and tell his father about Yue, about the baby named after the moon.

He met Azula’s gaze and spat in her face.

She stood, abruptly, an embroiled rage in her eyes.

“Guards,” she said, “throw him into your darkest hole. I don’t want him to remember what sunlight is.”

The blindfold was back, after that.

day 2

His favourite guard was a woman with a soft voice. Sokka had heard the male guards when they said that Sokka wasn’t to be given food; they called him a savage and cackled like they enjoyed it. The woman with the soft voice sneaked him an apple anyway. _Hide the core, or eat it,_ she told him. She seemed sorry about his situation.

His first visitor of the day was an angular man in Fire Navy armour. He asked him basic questions: Where is the Avatar? Where is Zuko? What do they plan to do?

Sokka crossed his arms and rested back against the cold stone wall of his cell. He did not respond. The angular man left, then came back with a bowl of rice. Sokka’s stomach rumbled at the sight of it – he hadn’t eaten since that apple, the night before – but he still didn’t respond. He had nothing to say and so the man left once again.

He didn’t get another visitor that day, and he didn’t get any more food, either.

day 3

When he woke up, he wasn’t alone.

There were no blankets, no pillows and no windows in his cell. The only light came from the torch that was now placed in the sconce by the door. There were two figures on the edge of his vision, and Sokka slowly blinked his eyes open.

Mai and Ty Lee watched him silently through the bars in his cell. Mai was stood, leaning against the wall, a figure draped in black, while Ty Lee was sat on the floor, the regular pink outfit he saw her in traded in for something pinker and higher quality. She hadn’t braided her hair and it hung loose about her shoulders, reminding him sharply of Ty Lao from the Fire Sage temple.

“He’s awake,” Mai said.

“Good morning,” Ty Lee greeted, chipper as ever. “Would you like some breakfast?”

Sokka peered at them warily through the dim light, deciding to say nothing, but his stomach betrayed him. Ty Lee gestured to the tray beside her; a cup of water, a bowl of rice, an apple. Sokka’s mouth watered at the sight of it, but he refused to let himself move.

“It’s all yours,” Ty Lee said.

“ _If_ you answer some questions,” Mai replied.

“I’m not telling you anything,” Sokka croaked, making Mai huff and roll her eyes.

“Come on, cute Water Tribe boy,” Ty Lee sighed, “don’t make this difficult.”

Sokka stared at her incredulously. “Do you even _know my name?_ ”

Ty Lee blinked. “I don’t think so, now you bring it up. Mai?”

“I don’t care.”

Ty Lee shrugged. “What _is_ your name?”

“Sokka,” he spat. “It’s _Sokka._ ”

“I’m Ty Lee, that’s Mai.”

“I _know!_ ”

“Hey, no need to get snippy,” Ty Lee said. “We’ve never really had a sit-down conversation like this. I don’t know why I would know your name.”

“It’s just respectful,” Sokka hissed, “to know the names of the people you’ve tried to kill multiple times.”

Ty Lee looked as if she was considering this point. Mai’s expression was blank.

“Anywho,” Ty Lee sang, “this is going to be a whole lot easier for all of us if you just tell us where Zuko and the Avatar are.”

_Bet they don’t know Aang’s name, either,_ Sokka said to himself. He curled further in on himself, closing his eyes again. Maybe he could get a little more sleep in – there was no reason to talk to either of them.

Both seemed to sigh and for a moment, that was all that happened. They waited in the silence. Then Mai said, “If you don’t talk to us, you’ll have to talk to one of the imbeciles in armour. They’ve been waiting for a war prisoner to torture for a while.”

Sokka swallowed at the word _torture_ but still didn’t move. _Torture_ , he’d decided a long time ago, was just a risk of fighting against the Fire Nation. If they were ever caught, it would always be where they’d end up. Frankly, he’d expected it to start by now.

“After that, you’ll probably go to the Boiling Rock,” Mai continued. “You know the kind of treatment there, I assume?”

“I broke out once, I can do it again,” Sokka mumbled.

“You broke out _as a guard_ ,” Mai replied. “You broke out and revealed the security flaws: the guards being unwilling to risk the warden’s life, the guards blindly trusting one another. Every aspect of that prison you took advantage of has been changed. Besides, they see you walk in there, you’ll be left in the freezer for the rest of your miserable life.”

“I grew up in the South Pole,” Sokka muttered. “Cold doesn’t scare me.”

Mai huffed.

Ty Lee asked, “You would _really_ prefer torture over talking to us?”

Sokka opened his eyes. “I’d prefer to be executed like the Kyoshi Warriors over telling you _anything._ I don’t know if you’ve heard of it, but I’ve got something called _loyalty._ ”

“We know about loyalty,” Ty Lee retorted, as if that was the main point of his comment.

“Oh, yeah? You’d follow Azula to the ends of the earth?”

“Of course!”

“Would she follow _you?_ ”

Ty Lee glared. “Azula is a _leader_ , not a follower,” she replied.

“So, that’s a no,” Sokka said. He shifted, sitting forward now, despite how hungry and weak he felt. “You’d do anything for her, but I’d bet she’d put you in one of these cells in a heartbeat if you made even the slightest mistake.”

“That’s not true!” Ty Lee cried. Sokka raised a pointed eyebrow towards Mai, who did not respond.

“Sounds true to me,” Sokka replied. “And I’d bet you’d turn on each other, too.”

“No, we wouldn’t,” Ty Lee huffed.

“Yes, you would. If it meant staying in Azula’s good books, you’d rat each other out with no hesitation. That’s why you haven’t told Mai about what Aang said.”

It was a lucky guess and Ty Lee said nothing this time. Mai tipped her head to the side, thoughtful, eyes sharp and alert.

“Who’s Aang?” Mai asked.

“For crying out loud!” Sokka huffed. “The Avatar! Aang! Bald little monk guy! Blue arrow tattoos! Wears a lot of yellow! Ringing any bells?”

Mai turned her gaze on Ty Lee but said nothing. Ty Lee’s face was red and her lips pressed together in a thin, desperate line. She did not look away from Sokka – if Zuko had been right, that day as they left the Western Air Temple, Sokka was dealing a killing blow right now. But better to turn them against each other than having him turn on his friends.

When they left, they took the food with them.

He slept for another hour or so before the armoured guards arrived, dragging him from his cell and chaining him to a board. They threw a scrap of fabric over his face and drowned him for a few hours. It was the first water he’d swallowed since he was captured, but by the end of it, he’d vomited it all back up.

That afternoon, he had his next visitor to his cell, and he immediately would’ve preferred the waterboarding again.

“Azula,” Sokka muttered, curled up in the corner of his cell.

“ _Sokka_ ,” Azula replied as the door clanged shut behind her. She knelt down by the bars and slid a tray of food towards him. The rice bowl turned over and the water cup sloshed. He eyed it, distrustfully. “I have no aims to kill you at present,” she said, rolling her eyes and settling herself on the other side of the bars. “When I kill you, it’ll be a public spectacle, done for political reasons. Until then, you have my word that you’ll live.”

“Your word isn’t worth much,” he managed, but he still reached forward and clawed the tray over.

Azula remained silent as Sokka methodically scooped up the rice in his fingers, forcing himself to eat slowly, as to not throw it all up. He had a feeling no one would clean out the cell. When he was done with the rice, he sipped at the water, and finally looked over to her again.

She looked much like she had the last time he saw her; the fire crown in her hair, the lower half loose and long about her shoulders. Instead of the ceremonial robes, though, she wore the armour he was used to seeing, however a little more dressed up, more like a Fire Lord. She didn’t have spit on her face anymore, though, so that was an improvement.

“I hear you’ve been fairly stubborn so far,” she commented as he considered the apple on the tray. Sokka shrugged. “I respect that – _loyalty._ Being unwilling to give up the Avatar and Zuko. But we know they’re in the city. We’re doing sweeps of every house as I speak; each building will be checked from top to bottom, and your friends _will_ be found.”

“Good luck,” he muttered, taking a bite of the apple.

“Tell me about yourself,” Azula said.

Sokka raised his eyebrows. “And _why_ would I do that?”

She shrugged. “I’m bored. Mai informed me of your name this morning, and it occurred to me that I do not know a thing about you. You’re Southern Water Tribe, yes?” Sokka didn’t reply, but she took that as an affirmative. “Your sister is the waterbender. Until her, I thought there _were_ no waterbenders in the South Pole.”

“She’s the only one,” Sokka said. _Stop talking, Sokka,_ his mind replied after.

“I thought the Southern Raiders wiped out the waterbenders,” Azula continued. “But that’s interesting, that one got away. Just like how my great-grandfather wiped out the Air Nomads, but one escaped then, too. The last airbender, the Avatar. Funny how fate works out.”

“Mm,” Sokka said, crunching down on the apple. “Hilarious.”

“And your mother’s dead?”

Sokka looked over sharply. “What?”

Azula shrugged. “That’s what I heard. Dead mother, killed by a Fire Nation soldier.”

“And who told you that?”

“Zuko.”

“Zuko?”

“Or,” she waved a hand around, “Zuko via Ty Lee. They were forming quite the friendship before he decided to turn around and murder our father. I think he was _venting._ ” She produced a second apple and took a bite out of it, speaking through her mouthful: “So, dead mother? I’ve got one to match.”

Sokka scoffed. “I’m not going to tell you anything about Aang and Zuko, so you might as well stop this bullshit and leave.”

She feigned shock. “I’m just being friendly,” she said. “Here, I’ll even tell you about my mother first. Build trust, as I’ve heard it.”

“I don’t care.”

“Well _I_ don’t care that _you_ don’t care,” she retorted. “So, my mother. Our father killed her, you know? Killed her for killing his father.” She waved a hand again. “Killed his father to stop _our_ father from killing Zuko. There was a lot of internal politics. Leading a country makes family drama _so_ riveting.”

Sokka scoffed. “Maybe that’s just your family.”

“No,” she said, prim. “I’d bet all the political leaders in the world have as much drama. Even _governors._ Mai’s father was governor of New Ozai while it was under Fire Nation occupation, and the rebels stole his three-year-old son, Tom-Tom.” Sokka had a vivid memory of the baby that had just wandered into their arms while they were in Omashu; the one that Aang had returned in the night. That was _Mai’s_ little brother?

“You’d bet wrong,” he said anyway, deciding that it couldn’t do any harm to bring up. She hadn’t even known his _name –_ Azula wasn’t as on-the-ball as they thought. “My father’s the chief of the Southern Water Tribe, and we don’t have that kind of bullshit in our family.”

Azula raised her eyebrows and even in the dark, Sokka could see the surprise. “You’re the _prince_ of the Southern Water Tribe?” she asked. “That’s new.”

“I’m not the _prince_ ,” Sokka replied. “Not technically. Chief in the South is an elective position, not a monarchy – so it’s not inherited, and there’s no role of _prince_ or _princess._ Up North, it’s a monarchy, even though the top position is still Chief.”

Azula blinked and took a considering bite of her apple. Sokka followed suit. Eventually, she said, “It’s my birthday, you know.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Well, shitty birthday to you.”

“Impolite,” she tutted, then hummed. “Fifteen today. One more year and I would be expected to hunt for a good marriage. Probably some noble Fire Nation son; maybe someone from the colonies. Do you know if any of the Earth Kingdom kings have suitable sons? That would be an advantageous marriage.”

Sokka scoffed. “Are you asking me for _dating advice?_ ”

Azula shrugged. “My advisors are very unhelpful on the subject. Does the Chief of the Northern Water Tribe have a son?”

“No,” Sokka said, cold. “He had a daughter.”

She hummed. “The Fire Nation frowns on those kinds of unions.”

He rolled his eyes. “She’s dead, now.”

“Pity.”

“She gave up her life to save the moon spirit.”

This caught Azula’s attention, as she cocked her head to the side. “When was the moon spirit— _oh,_ was this during Admiral Zhao’s famously failed siege of the North Pole?” By Sokka’s expression, she understood it was. “We laughed about that attack for weeks after. What a miserable man, and what a miserable attempt at immortality.”

“Immortality?”

“If he had actually _succeeded?_ The whole world would’ve known the name _Zhao_ — _killer of the moon,_ or whatever.” She gestured with her hand, all sharp nails and exact movements. “But I bet, in his useless mess of the situation, that princess will live longer in the world’s memory than he ever will.”

“Yue,” he said, then regretted it. That was a name to be kept from Azula’s mouth – it was too close to baby Yue, to the new Avatar hidden in the swamp.

“Yue,” Azula repeated. “Uncle may have been a fool, but he once said that immortality is only provided to those who do not go searching for it. Zhao tried too hard and vanished for his efforts. My father, even, gave himself a supreme title and a _ridiculous_ new crown, and was killed an hour later.”

Sokka’s laugh surprised her. “You don’t approve of the _Phoenix King?_ ”

“Fire Lord wasn’t enough for him,” Azula said, with a shrug. She finished her apple and stood, readying herself to leave. She brushed the invisible dirt from her armour and tossed her hair over her shoulder. “If you weren’t in the business of usurping my throne and installing my brother on it in my place, I would suggest to my advisors that my _advantageous marriage_ should be to you.”

Sokka choked on his apple and Azula seemed to take joy from that.

Her smile was like a knife’s edge. “A union between the Fire Nation and the Water Tribe would end half of this war,” she explained, “and shine a light on me as the generous, benevolent ruler, willing to rebuild your little village.”

“I have a girlfriend,” Sokka said.

“Yes, because that _obviously_ means more to me than you happily slitting my throat while I sleep,” Azula replied, dry. “Anyway, let’s hope you’ll be more receptive to my interrogators tomorrow; they’re happy to keep hurting you, but you might not be happy to keep being hurt.” She knocked on the door and a lock clanged from the outside as it shifted. Azula cut the light from the sconce as a splash of yellow cut into the room from the doorway.

“Oh!” she added, looking back over her shoulder at him. “Whatever it was you said to Ty Lee, I do suggest you not say it again. She’s an ugly crier.”

day 4

They had to be coming for him, right? Katara and Aang and Toph and Suki and Zuko? They wouldn’t just leave him here, would they? Would they? Would they?

He drowned and spluttered and gulped in heavy breaths. They asked all sorts of nonsensical questions. Where is the Avatar? When will Zuko make his play for the throne? Where is General Iroh? Who is The Order of The White Lotus? Where is Zuko? Where is Zuko? Where is Zuko?

He curled up on the cool stone of his cell floor and wished for many endings.

day 5

Ty Lee burst into his cell, shocking him out of his sleep. He’d gotten very little real sleep since he arrived – passing out never counted; unconsciousness never counted. The door crashed shut behind her.

“Why did he say that to me?” she asked, her hair a wild mess, loose and long and untamed. She wore a cloak, her hood flying down as she yelled. “ _Why did he say that to me?_ ”

“What in La are you talking about?” Sokka yawned.

“Your monk friend,” she hissed. “Why would he say those things to me? _Why?_ ”

Sokka frowned. His stomach felt hollow. He hadn’t eaten since Azula’s visit, but had thrown up several more times. “I don’t know,” he mumbled, curling back in on himself.

“Does he understand the position he put me in?” she demanded. “Does he _understand_ that even a _rumour_ of such a thing could have me and my entire family executed?” Sokka didn’t respond and she growled, grabbing at the bars. “What did he expect me to do with such a thing? Did he think I would race after you? Ask him to teach me? Ask him to train me? That’s—that’s— _bullshit—_ ”

“I don’t know,” Sokka repeated. “Maybe he said it because he believes it.”

“Well, he _shouldn’t,_ ” she hissed. “It’s not true, and now Azula’s breathing down my neck about it. When I end up in that guillotine next, that’s on _you_ and your stupid little friend.”

Sokka levelled her with a tired gaze. He asked, “How can you be friends with someone you’re terrified of?”

She glared back, her hands squeezing the bars of his cell. She hadn’t lit the sconce. They remained in darkness.

A moment later, the cell door opened, and a man in full armour said, “Lady Ty Lee, you know you are not to leave the palace without escorts.”

She didn’t move, exhaling slowly, methodically, before replying, “Yes. I’m aware. Please wait outside for me.”

“Very well,” he said after a beat.

The door shut and Sokka scoffed. “She’s got a leash on you, huh?”

Ty Lee’s face was like a volcano about to erupt, but she only hissed, “Do _not_ bring up your little friend’s flights of fancy again, water boy. You’ll get us both killed.”

Sokka didn’t reply. Ty Lee stormed back out.

Later, when he woke up again, the day’s routine repeated; drowning, vomiting, questioning. Sokka only told them the story of when he got two fish hooks stuck in his thumb. The one guard he liked – the woman with the soft voice – sneaked him another apple. He ate the core, too.

day 6

Sokka woke up alone in the dark. He woke up to thoughts of Suki, laughing, of Katara practising her bending knee-deep in a tranquil lake. He woke up to that feeling of baby Yue settled in his arms, though none of them were there when his eyes adjusted to the din.

He waited, then. He waited in the quiet, in the dark, for the guards to take him away as they had again and again. Sokka was fairly sure it was the sixth day – but morning or night he had no idea. There was no window in here, perhaps _down here;_ Sokka had no idea how long he’d been asleep for or if people had come and gone during that time.

Behind the backs of his eyelids, he pictured a daring escape. Pictured breaking out of the cell; grabbing Azula through the bars and slamming her into the metal, swiping keys from her belt or forcing her to unlock the door. He imagined running down the halls he had never seen past the black bag they shoved over his head, and breaking out into glorious sunlight. But his own daydream turned against him – his friends weren’t waiting for him in Safe Haven and he was trapped in a city he barely knew. He’d break out through the bunker eventually, after hours or days and a series of wrong turns; stowaway on a boat for weeks at a time until he finally made it to the Earth Kingdom shore, and then hike across hundreds of miles of rolling green hills that all looked the same, until he finally made it back to the swamp. But the Foggy Swamp Tribe had moved along, and where they had once been were just empty, hollow huts; no sign of his friends, of the villagers, of Yue—

He opened his eyes again. There was no difference in the dark, though.

Sokka waited for a long time, starving and thirsty and unable to move from where he laid against the stone floor, until the door finally unbolted. He hoped it was the kind guard—no, he hoped it was Suki and his friends here to break him out, but when he looked, it was Azula; her face twisted into something cruel and raging.

She didn’t bother lighting the sconce on the wall, just stormed up to the bars and seethed, “Listen, you little Water Tribe savage, I am _done_ playing around. I am done with the games, with the polite conversation—you will tell me where Zuko is, or I will burn your face beyond recognition.”

Sokka swallowed dryly, staring with wild eyes. When he didn’t respond, Azula growled and demanded the guard to open the cell door. When they hesitated, she bit, “He’s useless and starved – he won’t cause me any problems. _Open it._ ”

The guard fumbled with the keys, but finally the cell door screeched open, and Azula barged inside, crouching right in front of where Sokka was propped up in the corner and slamming her hand around his throat. Her nails pierced into the soft skin of his neck as he choked.

“You nonbending savage runt,” she hissed. “Tell me where my brother is.”

Sokka rasped out a soft _fuck you_ , but that just made her squeeze tighter. She was scarier than the waterboarding, than the guards who didn’t let up for hours at a time. Azula had entire forest fires in her eyes; seething, scorching heat willing to burn down an entire empire.

He choked out incoherent sounds and Azula let up just enough so he could repeat himself. “I th-thought you wouldn’t kill me unless people s-saw.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Plans have changed,” she said, her voice icy cold. “You’re a pawn, runt. You have _always_ been a pawn. You may have a nice, fancy sword – but you are _nothing._ You are the shit that the Fire Nation steps in. I will give you this one chance; fail to take it, and you will die, here and now. You will not get the honour of public execution; you will burn to death in this very room, and your body will be dumped in some hole. Your friends will not find you. Your family will have nowhere to mourn you, and you will be lost to embers of history.”

She wasn’t lying. Sokka knew that – but he also knew that he couldn’t give up his friends. He couldn’t even give up Asuni and Niya at Safe Haven; they were Fire Nation, but they took in six strange kids, took in the homeless, all because Azula and her regime wouldn’t.

So instead, he met her forest fire eyes and said, “W-what was it that Iroh said about immortality?”

Azula growl, her hand around his throat growing hot with rage and Sokka summoned the rest of his floundering strength to slam his forehead into her nose. Azula flew back, losing her balance, her hand flying to her face and pulling away dripping red.

He thought of Suki, of Katara, of both Yues who would never know him as well as he would like. He thought of Toph, and Aang, and Zuko. He thought of his father, of Bato, of his mother, and resigned himself to his fate.

Azula lunged forward, her hand slamming down against the ratty, thread-bare cloth at his thigh. Her hand lit neon blue and Sokka shrieked under the sudden influx of searing pain; his clothes catching alight at burning away in an instant, Azula’s hand branding the skin of his thigh.

“Savage,” she hissed, blood pouring into her mouth, and Sokka blacked out.

His last thought was, _I wouldn’t have married you anyway._

day 7

He woke up to the smell of burning, though it turned out to be himself.

There was a violently red, bloodied hand-shape across his left thigh, blistered and disgusting. Infection would set in soon, if it hadn’t yet, but Sokka couldn’t bring himself to move. He was sprawled out on the floor, overcome with the same agony that had been passing across him in waves; forcing him away and then becoming too much to handle, sending him into the dark.

Sokka was sixteen years old. He’d had his sixteenth birthday sometime during their Earth Kingdom days, and though he was a man, a warrior, a soldier, he was also a kid. _A kid._ He let out a loose sob, one that he couldn’t hold back. He thought of the ice and snow of home, what he might be doing there had there been no war, had he been able to grow as a child with none of the stress and pressure that weighed on his shoulders.

He was a little delirious. He let his mind wander. Let himself picture Princess Yue, some advantageous marriage _(Azula, get out of my head, you don’t belong here)_ between the North and the South. Let himself picture Katara, growing up among waterbenders. Let himself picture Aang, cracking out of the iceberg and able to take his time; no destiny to catch up with by summer’s end.

Sokka grasped hold of the snow, felt it wet and cold between his fingers. He peered at his reflection in the water’s edge. Saw straight down to the murky depths, to where his mother’s waterlogged body was bolted to a boat, tied down with weights. A drowned corpse in the watery graveyard of the South Pole.

_Is this death?_ Sokka asked his reflection.

_Nobody deserves immortality,_ his mother’s corpse replied.

Then the door to the cell slammed open, and Sokka reluctantly opened his eyes. They hadn’t lit the sconce again. They left him in darkness with that sheet of yellow light splashing across the floor yet never reaching him at the back. Perhaps today, Azula would kill him properly.

Perhaps today, Sokka wouldn’t fight back and he’d let her.

Perhaps today—

“Sokka! He’s in here! Zuko, I need a key!”

“A _key?_ Why would you need a key when you’ve got me, Toph Beifong, _best earthbender in the world?_ ”

“Again, there hasn’t been a formal competition—”

_Is this death?_ Sokka asked his reflection in the stone walls. _My friends are going to take me to the other side?_

“Sokka! Are you awake? Can you hear me?”

_Is this death?_

A familiar face appeared above his own; large worried brown eyes, pinched brows.

She said, “You’re not dying, Sokka.”

_Is this death?_

“No,” she replied. “This is a rescue.”


	3. part three: the rescue

Never let it be said that Zuko didn’t know how to make a plan _._

It didn’t come naturally, and it only occurred after days of stress-pacing and yelling and having to climb onto the roof out of that single dingy window in the attic, as to avoid being seen by the Fire Nation guards that searched every house in the Caldera for him not once, but _twice_ – but he did, eventually, come up with a plan.

Three plans, actually.

The first plan was a bust right off the bat.

Asuni and Niya, who’d recognised their prince at first glance, had immediately begun asking around and getting information for him and his friends. They’d revealed the residence of a high-ranking guard at the Caldera’s prison, the same place Uncle Iroh had been kept (continued to be kept? Zuko didn’t know if he was still there or not), and thus the group went, under the cover of night, to steal his keys.

That part was successful. They were almost caught several times, but they did leave with the keys, and a few hours later, the night after Sokka was kidnapped, they were creeping through the halls of the prison, either fighting or hiding from every guard they passed, only to discover that _Sokka wasn’t there._

(And neither was Uncle Iroh. In fact, the room that Zuko knew he’d been kept in was marked with a sign prohibiting entrance, and inside was a broken wall that, Zuko assumed, Uncle had escaped through.)

The second plan was a raid of the palace. It took several days to plan, during which they all argued a lot and apologised a lot and came to the conclusion that without Sokka, they were struggling to hold themselves together.

The Kyoshi Warriors had not yet been smuggled out of the city, and all were willing to help rescue Sokka. Together, as the moon rose in the sky, the eleven of them invaded the palace some four days after Sokka’s disappearance. Their plan went off without a hitch, for the most part – except for the all-important factor of _actually rescuing Sokka._

He just wasn’t there.

They swept through the corridors with speed, hoods up, fabric masks over their faces, taking down squads of guards as they headed for every location Zuko could think of. They’d entered through the bunker and, in their invasion, come face to face with Mai, Ty Lee, and _Fire Lord Fucking Azula_ ; a fight that came to dangerous blows, almost fatal. The entire west wing of the palace was in flames by the time they escaped, disappearing back into the Caldera and losing their tails in the process.

“I talked to Ty Lee again,” Aang said, hours later when they were back in the attic of Safe Haven. Zuko groaned and Katara slapped her face into her hands. “She wasn’t particularly receptive.”

“That’s because she’s _not an airbender,_ ” Zuko replied, before beginning preparations on plan three.

Plan three was a hail Mary; a plead to Agni, a death wish and, frankly, not a good idea.

It started with Asuni and Niya collecting everyone they knew who opposed Azula. It continued with Aang telling Zuko and offhanded story about his brief experience in school, and with the dance party, and ended with Toph reluctantly emptying her pockets of the expensive things she’d stolen from the palace to hock off for money.

On the seventh day since Sokka was taken, two weeks after Sozin’s Comet and Azula’s ascension, Zuko donned familiar black clothes, sheathing his dual Dao blades on his back. He climbed out the attic window and onto the roof, helping up the others, one by one, as he went. They were spectres against the night sky; shifting black in the dark.

Zuko tied his mask on over his face and looked back at the others. Five black-clothed Blue Spirits.

“Alright,” he said, though the Blue Spirit rarely spoke. “It’s an hour until sunrise. Toph, lead the way.”

A shorter Blue Spirit stepped forward and started off along the rooftops; she occasionally needed help judging the distance to the next house, but otherwise they were quiet in their journey, moving from house to house, a blur in the periphery of patrolling guards, there and then gone.

She had walked the city for days, her feet focused on the twisting tunnels below the Caldera, built into the mountainside, into the mile of rock that sat in the belly of the dormant volcano, until she came across the presence of people, somewhere below the surface. Toph couldn’t be sure that it was Sokka, but Zuko was running out of plans and, surely, Sokka was running out of time.

He didn’t know what had happened to Sokka during his capture, but with Azula, it couldn’t be good. Though Katara had originally suggested waiting until his execution date and breaking him out like they had the Kyoshi Warriors – that date could be months away, and even if it actually came around, who was to say that it would go anything like the first time?

The Blue Spirits passed through the Caldera until they reached the eastern edge, right on the precipice of the middle-class jewellers district and the high-density residential area that housed many manual workers. They leapt down into a wide alley, and the shortest Blue Spirit lowered her stance, pulling her arms apart in jarring movements and creating a narrow set of stairs, descending into the ground.

The Blue Spirit looked at itself, again and again.

“This better work,” a Blue Spirit said, a katana strapped to her hip.

“I hope so,” The Blue Spirit replied. They started down the staircase.

The descent was long and lit an orange red; The Blue Spirit holding out a hand for a flame to guide their way. The Kyoshi Warriors were already installed in the same cave Appa was in; Toph and Aang had gone back the day after the first rescue attempt to feed him, but had done the trip again after the second, taking with them the six Kyoshi Warriors through the twisting labyrinth of the bunker.

Now, the Blue Spirit with the katana walked directly behind him, with the smallest up ahead, drawing out the tunnel. The katana had taken up most of their money, not to mention the black clothes and identical masks they’d had to buy. There were no combat fans in the Fire Nation – at least, not that the man behind the mask knew of; still, she was adept with a katana, and it would serve her better than her bare hands – the Kyoshi Warrior behind the Blue Spirit mask had realised as much as they fought in the palace. Having any weapon was often better than having none.

Eventually, they slowed, and in the dim firelight, he saw the smallest Blue Spirit place her hand against the rock wall ahead of them.

“We’re here,” she said in a whisper. “There are guards beyond this wall, and rooms with people in.”

The Blue Spirit slid the swords off his back, extinguishing the fire. The real Blue Spirit was not a firebender – at least, not that anyone could prove. Though he was sure the man he’d saved Toph from would disagree.

“Let’s go,” he said, and the smallest Blue Spirit slammed her hands into the wall; it flew forward in a chunk, crushing a guard on the other side into the opposite wall. They broke out into the lit corridor, leaping into the battle with their blades drawn and hands raised to bend.

One Blue Spirit leapt over the rest, light as air, gracefully slipping into combat, as another drew a stream of water from a skin at their hip. The Blue Spirits were a blur of black and blue; terrifying masks and flashing blades. They took down the first guards they found, then the smallest started down the corridor in a run, searching for their friend.

The Blue Spirit peered into every room he could – the open doors revealing basic store rooms, containing sacks of rice; a bare break room with three guards playing cards, who leapt to their feet at the sight of them; the bars in the window of a metal door, looking straight into a plain dirt room, with a trough of water and an angled board with straps in the middle.

“Can you tell where he is?” a Blue Spirit asked, following behind.

“No,” the smallest one huffed. “I know what he should feel like, but—I can’t find him.”

“So he’s not here?” the Blue Spirit with the katana questioned, sighing.

“He has to be,” The Blue Spirit growled. They slowed to a stop in the hall. In the distance, armoured footsteps echoed their way. “If he’s not here, then he’s not in the city at all!”

“What if he’s not?!” another Blue Spirit cried. She yanked up her mask, Katara’s wide eyes panicked and angry and scared underneath. “What if he’s been _moved?_ We’ll never find him again!”

“Stop it,” the Blue Spirit with the katana hissed. “We’ll find him. He’ll be here.”

“Toph can’t sense him!”

“Then we open all the doors and we _check,_ ” she replied. “Come on. One by one.”

They took keys from the bodies on the ground and began, opening the doors as The Blue Spirit held off one direction, another identical vigilante holding off the other. He moved with precision, swiping his blades through the soft spots, the chinks in the armour. His bending was subtle; using the swords to glance away blows, change the directions of the bursts of flame with a sword movement that was taken from earthbending.

They fought on.

They searched on.

A Blue Spirit cried, “Azula’s on her way!”, recognising the way she walked through the tunnels. The Blue Spirit didn’t want to face Azula right now; he didn’t want to face her friends, either. He wanted to get Sokka and go. He wanted to fade into obscurity and return with her already captured and chained, taking his throne back without having to face her.

She was crazy and violent and dangerous, and the man behind the mask didn’t want to be the one to land the killing blow.

“Sokka?” Somewhere behind him, Katara’s familiar voice rang out, “Sokka!” Then she darted back out into the corridor – The Blue Spirit turned, his guards groaning or bleeding on the ground. “He’s in here!” She pointed to the open, heavy-duty metal door. “Zuko, I need a key!”

“A _key?_ ” the smallest Blue Spirit asked. “Why would you need a key when you’ve got me, Toph Beifong, _best earthbender in the world?_ ”

“Again,” The Blue Spirit interrupted, as they all moved for the room, “there hasn’t been a formal competition—”

“The whole point of the masks,” another Blue Spirit said, “is that we _don’t_ say each other’s names.”

The smallest Blue Spirit slipped into the room and grabbed the wall of metal bars inside, pulling the lock right off and letting the door swing open. The Blue Spirit peered over his friends’ heads and froze; Sokka was a crumpled mess on the ground. The room reeked something awful in the pitch black, but in the slant of light he could make out the bruising and blood on his face, the violent red burn on his leg.

His feet were cemented to the ground. He couldn’t move. Or—wouldn’t. Didn’t have it in him to approach the mess that remained of Sokka. What if he was _dead?_ He sure looked it – what if they were too late and this was all they had left of him?

What had Azula _done_ to him?

“Sokka!” Katara yanked off her mask as Suki did the same, “Are you awake? Can you hear me?”

Suki peered over Sokka’s body as his eyes reluctantly opened. The Blue Sp— _Zuko_ felt sick, he shoved a foot back and left the room, swinging his blade in an arc to slash at the guard that tried to make a grab for him.

He tuned out their words; tuned out everything except the slick of blood and the tight stretch of his burn. The way it had melted the curve of his ear; his left eye a permanent slit, unable to fully open. His hearing had succumbed to infection – everything on the left was a distortion of sound, of colour; sometimes he’d shut his right eye and cover his right ear and sink into the white noise, into the blur, like he was detached and floating.

He caught the flimsy punch of a guard and snapped their arm with his foot, swallowing down the bile and vomit that pushed up against his throat.

“Oh, Zuzu, that wasn’t very nice.”

He recognised the voice, of course he did.

Azula, Mai and Ty Lee stood at the far end of the hallway. They looked _different._ Looked like they’d taken advantage of the funds Azula’s new position gifted them with. Their clothes were finer, armour ornate and detailed, gilded gold. Mai’s hair was braided back, her bangs still heavy and thick, while Ty Lee’s were tied lower, looser, Azula’s half up in the topknot, her Fire Crown glinting in the torch light.

Zuko sank back into his mask. The Blue Spirit didn’t speak – more for the recognisable rasp of his voice than the intimidation that came with it. He slowly flipped the swords around his fingers.

“I see you’ve found my prized prisoner,” Azula continued when it was clear The Blue Spirit would give her nothing. “He’s been a joy, you know. Had many lovely conversations with him, and I must say, his screams are _very_ enjoyable. Could listen to them all day long—and _have,_ mind you.”

The Blue Spirit stayed still, waiting. Behind him, another Blue Spirit popped out of the cell, moving into position beside him.

“Oh, there’s another one,” Azula said, feigning surprise. “That’s embarrassing; they’re wearing the same outfit as you!”

A third Blue Spirit joined him; sinking into a stance on his other side.

Azula sighed, like they were ever so predictable. “Well, this has gone too far,” she said. “You’ve broken into my prison, set fire to a wing of my palace, and now you’re trying to escape with my favourite prisoner. Oh! Look, hello _Sokka._ Have you enjoyed your stay?”

Sokka was held up between two Blue Spirits, who were beginning to struggle under his weight. He was barely conscious, head lolling. In the light, the burn on his thigh looked sickeningly like a hand. The bare scraps of fabric left on his legs were blackened and charred.

“Here’s how this is going to go,” Azula continued, stepping forward down the hall. “In mere seconds, you will be surrounded by guards and Dai Li agents; they will capture you, throw you into cells, and you will all be executed for your crimes against the Fire Nation. Zuko’s death will solidify my place on the throne, and the Avatar’s will send the Avatar Cycle continuing on, as it always has.” She tilted her head at an angle. “It’s water next, no? I suppose I should give a call to the Southern Raiders—it _was_ the Southern Raiders who killed little Sokka’s mother, was it not? I believe they’re the only naval soldiers to visit the South Pole in the last decade—”

“Stop,” the Blue Spirit on his right said. He pushed up his mask, and pulled down the fabric underneath until it sat at his neck. Aang’s grey eyes were steely, his jaw tense. He had yet to cut his hair and reveal the extent of the blue arrow on his forehead, but Azula’s face revealed that she knew _exactly_ who he was.

Ty Lee became rigid, and Mai’s movements were familiar enough that Zuko knew she was reaching for her knives.

“You’re not going to take them,” he said.

“Oh, am I not?”

“No. I’m going to surrender myself—”

“Aang!”

“—and you’re going to let the rest go free.”

Azula pulled a face. “I’ll be honest with you, Avatar, you’re not quite the catch you used to be. You _failed,_ Avatar. You killed my father, yes, but you did nothing to end the hundred-year war; in fact, you removed one leader to install a younger, more ambitious one. My subjects are more loyal to me than they had ever been to my father; as a nation, we have never been stronger. So where, I ask, was your value? Your worth?”

“Don’t listen to her,” the smallest Blue Spirit said.

“Oh, sure, don’t listen to me,” Azula said, taking a leisurely step forward and waving a hand. “I’m right, of course, but don’t listen to me. It might break that fragile little ego you have. You’re useless, Avatar. If you were truly worthy of your title, of your abilities, I wouldn’t be standing here, and _you all_ wouldn’t be standing over there. Having to run around as vigilantes because you’re so unwanted as yourselves.”

“Enough,” Aang spat. “You’ve tortured Sokka, and what did you get? You didn’t find us! We had to come to you for you to even have a _chance_ at our capture. I may be a failed Avatar, but you’re a lousy Fire Lord! This deal is the best you’re gonna get, Azula. Take me as prisoner and let the others go. You can continue your campaign to catch them another day, though you and I both know that you’ll fail.”

Azula’s jaw twitched, her gaze intense. Eventually, it jumped from Aang to Sokka.

“Fine,” she said. “He’s of no use to anyone anymore, and _you,_ at least, might provide us a little entertainment before your death.”

The Blue Spirit was eager to move, to stop this, but he didn’t know what to do to help. If they got caught up fighting Azula, the Dai Li would have no problems capturing them from behind. They needed a quick escape, but they couldn’t let Aang go—that wasn’t part of the plan.

He arced his sword up until it was across Aang, who sighed and shook his head, pressing gently on the blade.

“I’m gonna be fine,” he said. “You have to get the others out of here.”

The Blue Spirit didn’t move, didn’t speak.

Aang stepped past him.

“Take Sokka and go,” Aang said.

Still, he was unmoving. There were footsteps down the corridor, like the others were taking their chance – but could he do this? Could he let this happen? This was the third of three rescue plans, and in their week of trying, they’d left Sokka to be beaten and burned. The same thing would happen to Aang; Aang who didn’t kill, didn’t hurt or maim – Aang who couldn’t bear to even end the life of the _Fire Lord_ , despite all his evil. Aang wouldn’t last a week down here. Agni, Aang wouldn’t last a _day._

He couldn’t let this happen – he would have to face Azula, even if a civil war ensued, even if the nation would have to pick sides, even if the _world_ would have to pick sides. He would fight and he would save Aang and—

A small, firm hand landed on his forearm.

He looked down. The smallest Blue Spirit held his arm, her other hand curled into a tight fist.

“Let’s go,” she said, quiet.

He gritted his teeth.

“Please.”

He took a step back, then another. Aang’s eyes were sad but understanding, and Azula was amused, her hands in position to glow with blue flames as she took who she believed to be the Avatar into custody. They’d have to get him back out _fast._ An Avatar who didn’t glow, didn’t use all four elements – well that wasn’t an Avatar at all.

He should’ve offered up his own life instead. Aang’s false identity was the first barrier of protection for Yue – Zuko’s death wouldn’t put that baby’s life at risk. It might plunge his country into chaos, though; a deep, dark second century of war and bloodshed.

The other Blue Spirit tugged on his arm though, and he followed.

They turned the corner, Azula and Aang vanishing from sight, and burst out into a sprint, following the others back down the corridor. The Blue Spirit sheathed his swords and took Sokka’s weight into his arms – the girls hesitated but started ahead as The Blue Spirit carried Sokka back down the tunnels, to the staircase they’d built.

“There’s an army coming,” the smallest Blue Spirit warned them as she ran up the steps. Morning light shone white across them, sunrise breaking over the horizon. The early risers of the Fire Nation watched as they sprinted through the streets mere moments later, Dai Li and Fire Nation guards following behind. Four Blue Spirits and a Water Tribe prisoner.

They ran and fought; chunks of stone and rock flying, water carving sharp arcs through the air, a katana moving swift and glinting with light. Despite The Blue Spirit being known as a nonbender, the tallest of the group, carrying the Dao blades and the Water Tribe boy, did swing his leg around, sending strong, kaleidoscopic flames towards their attackers.

 _Azula always lies,_ the man behind the mask thought. Aang gave himself up and she sent their forces anyway. He should’ve spoken up, should’ve fought Azula in the moment – what was Aang _doing_ , martyring himself when they could’ve all fought and escaped? Especially with someone like Azula, who broke her promises as soon as they were made.

They’ll break him out, he knew; they’d save him and bring him back, get the hell out of the Caldera and figure out a new game plan. Maybe they’d find Uncle – wherever he was, he’d know how to get the throne back better than Zuko ever could.

So they fought, and they ran, and then eventually a knife whizzed through the air too fast to stop, and landed hard in The Blue Spirit’s shoulder. He stumbled in the centre of the town square; a second knife lodging in the back of his thigh.

He swore, sharply, quietly, and hefted Sokka in his arms.

“Oh, _Zuzu,_ ” a voice called. It wasn’t Azula, though the name sounded just the same in Mai’s mouth. He glanced back to see her walking through the crowds, stiletto blades between her fingers.

“You know, lady,” Toph’s voice yelled, echoing through the square, “you guys don’t play fair at all!”

“Who said we were supposed to?” Mai replied, dry.

It wasn’t rock that hurtled towards Mai as The Blue Spirit ( _Zuzu_ ) staggered backwards, away, but water; a clean arc that sent Mai moving swiftly back, a blade thrown towards Katara, who came in, mask on and arms raised. The blade hit a shield of ice and bounced towards the floor as Katara turned, her leg sweeping out and the water following; it splashed up and across Mai, freezing her arms and legs in place.

The Blue Spirit didn’t take any joy in the way her jaw worked, the yelp of surprise that fell from her mouth. Then he stepped backwards and his knee buckled, the pain from the knife in his thigh overwhelming.

“Zuko!” Katara yelled, and Zuko – because, _Agni,_ he was Zuko, not The Blue Spirit or a figurehead hiding in the shadows; it was _Zuko_ behind the mask, _Zuko_ fighting his own people, _Zuko_ dragging down under the weight of Sokka’s body – didn’t even have it in him to care that she’d said his name. That people had heard.

She ran over, skidding to a stop as two guards emerged from the crowd, only to be met with a katana.

“We have to go,” she said, low. “Can you carry him?”

Zuko heaved and nodded. “Get the knife out of my leg,” he huffed.

“You could bleed out.”

“Then you’ll heal me—just _get it out._ ”

Katara nodded and ducked behind him; there was a sharp tug and a flash of intense pain, and then the knife was free. Zuko drew in a breath and pushed back up to his feet. Sokka groaned, mostly unconscious, in his arms.

“I know,” he muttered, and then started off behind Katara, back across the town square. Mai yelled something that got swallowed by the crowd, and then they were running again, fighting their way through as they started down a street that led directly towards Safe Haven and the slum-like area at the edge of the Caldera.

“Blue Spirits!” a Dai Li agent yelled. “Halt! In the name of the Fire Lord!”

“Get bent!” Toph yelled back at them, and they rounded the corner, plunging into the crowd.

It moved aside for them with ease, and Zuko tried not to feel warm or happy about it, about the sea of Blue Spirit masks that filled this street, and the next, and the one after that – about the people of the slums who Asuni and Niya had called upon, their secret vendetta against the royal family leading them to happily take a silent stand. Behind the masks were people whose brothers and fathers and sons had been sent into a pointless war and slaughtered; were people whose money was taken from them to fund navies and banquets; people who lived on the streets, in the gutters, who had been saved by The Blue Spirit, or knew someone who had.

They wore the mask, as fifty school children had once worn a bandana, and the _real_ Blue Spirit vanished into the crowd, disappearing from the eyes of the guards and Dai Li, surrounded by the people who would never otherwise have a chance to stand up against the Fire Lord and her armies.

When they arrived at Safe Haven, passing under the subtle blue scuff of paint, the mark that had come to mean _The Blue Spirit saved someone of this house,_ Zuko placed Sokka down before collapsing himself; Katara’s hands swift and cold against the back of his thigh, the water glowing faintly in his periphery as she fixed up the wound, and then the one on the back of his shoulder, Suki yanking off her mask and then yanking out the knife.

He stared at Sokka; at the hand print on his thigh and the dark bruises on his face, and sighed, eyes shutting at last.

Zuko was not good at plans; not at thinking them up, nor execution – but he got Sokka out. All he had to do, apparently, was give up Aang in return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me, plotting this out: oh yeah, 5k, maybe 6  
> me, writing it: yes 15k seems reasonable yes indeed

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!!!!! i super hope you enjoyed this chapter, pretty please talk to me in the comments about it! comments are the only thing that brings me joy and validation and without them i don't write lmao


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